


Nightmare

by Charlotte_Lancer



Series: Siren Song [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Horror, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Past Character Death, abandoned buildings, but the soulmates thing is very very out of focus here and only mentioned like once, songfic (sort of but not really)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28799451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlotte_Lancer/pseuds/Charlotte_Lancer
Summary: Sheppard's access to the machine is gone completely, but some of the effects might not be.
Relationships: Past Lyle Holland/John Sheppard, Rodney McKay & John Sheppard
Series: Siren Song [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965943
Kudos: 3





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> See endnote for more warnings.

When Sheppard talks to Heightmeyer two days later, he tells her stories of Captain ‘Lyla’ Holland. He edits them carefully, leaving out details from certain missions and adding in new ones to others. He can’t remember the exact date the Air Force started letting women fly combat, so he plays it safer than he probably needs to and says he met Holland in ‘98 instead of ‘95, carefully editing what he tells Heightmeyer to fit into the condensed timeline.

Heightmeyer doesn't seem to notice anything off with his story, or at least gives no indication if she does, and after a few hours, when Sheppard has said all he can bring himself to say in one session, she lets him go with some gentle advice to get some rest, and another appointment scheduled for the day after next. He’ll tell her about the ‘dreams’- the cover story he and Rodney had come up with for the use of the machine- in the next appointment.

  
  


It's not exactly late when he gets back to his room, but the season is starting to change and it's late enough that a slight chill is creeping in through the open window. He still can't remember opening it, and he probably ought to find time to ask Rodney if there's any way the after effects of the device might be messing with his memory, but that’s a problem for later, and for now he just pulls the window closed and climbs into his bed.

A bed that, despite being tiny by Earth standards, now feels vast and empty to him. After months of sharing the space with another person pressed against him, it feels wrong to fall asleep alone, feels strange in a way that quickly pulls him back into wakefulness even when he does manage to drift off. 

The lack of connection to the device is odd in it's own way, too, but the background hum of Atlantis's presence is still there, a small comfort against the vast emptiness he feels inside of himself as well as around him. By focusing in on that small comfort, and through the sheer exhaustion of several nights of fitful sleep, he finally manages to fall into unconsciousness for more than a few minutes at a time, but ‘restful’ isn’t how Sheppard would choose to describe the night.

_ he’s standing in the courtyard of an empty mall, dusky light streaming in from the cracked glass dome stories above. the exact number of stories is too hard to tell- his vision blurs at the edges, the skylight seeming to move further away as he looks at it- and the darkness surrounding the few spots of light makes it difficult to get his bearings in the cavernous room. the light reflects in ways it shouldn’t, illuminating cracked tiles on the floor and the broken remains of a moss-eaten fountain without lighting the spaces above them. it’s impossibly silent, even though he can see drops of dirty rainwater dripping from the jagged edges of the stone fountain. he doesn’t hear them hit the floor, and he’s struck by the thought that this space could be above ground level, and the water is falling through a hole in the floor to hit ground an unknowable distance below him. taking stock of the situation does little to help; without light, it’s impossible to know how much of the floor around him is stable, or even there, and a quick brush of his hands confirms his suspicions that his pockets are empty, bare of even the most trivial tool. he almost wonders how he got where he is- wherever that is- but before he can focus, a light blinks on in the distance. a lone neon letter on a distant wall, casting a pinkish glow that reaches farther than it should, stopping just short of sheppard and highlighting the edges of a long hallway in it’s path. he walks towards it, careful to avoid the holes in the floor that the colored light reveals. he looks down into one as he passes- pure darkness that seems to absorb any light that touches it, stretching on for what could be an meter or a mile. cold air seems to rise from the hole, drifting out on a breeze that has no discernable source. sheppard presses his arms close to his sides and keeps walking, keeping a wide distance from the holes. _

_ time passes too slowly as he walks, or the hallway is much longer than it had looked, the last few steps towards the light starting to feel heavy as he takes them, and it’s with weary confusion that he realizes the light doesn’t look any larger from directly under it than it had from a hallway away. he turns around just quickly enough to see the glass dome crash down through the courtyard, shattering with a noise that rings out all the louder for breaking the unnatural silence, and plunging the whole area into the dark abyss. the sun streaks fall with the dome, as if the glass itself had been the source of the light. he reaches in vain for a sidearm he knows isn’t there, a jolt of cold static creeping up his back as he watches what remains of the courtyard fade into darkness, the sun itself seemingly extinguished above. _

_ it’s with well-earned trepidation that sheppard turns his back on the scene, moving to face up to the pink light that hangs on the wall. the light gives more questions than clues- it hangs at an odd angle with seemingly no support, either by design or decay, and puts out a strong pink light that seems to glow brighter in some directions than others- but it does reveal a set of glass doors below it, leading into a store long-since abandoned. a heavy chain binds the handles of the two doors together, ends sealed with a heavy padlock that sheppard has no tools to pick, but time has taken it’s toll on the chain just as harshly as it has the rest of the building, rusting it near through in places, and it’s only a moment’s work to snap the chain entirely. it falls to pieces as it hits the tile floor with a muted thud, sending up a cloud of dust in it’s wake. sheppard pulls open one of the doors slowly, and steps inside with as much caution as can be had in this place. _

  
  


_ The air seems to change as the door swings closed, the cool staleness replaced with warm freshness that carries a light, sweet scent that he can’t quite place. A quiet click signals that the door has latched shut behind him, and suddenly the darkness in front of him is gone, bright lights illuminating the blurry scene of a crowded department store. A woman chattering on a clunky cell phone pushes past him with her cart, disappearing- dissolving- straight into the still closed doors before he can stop her. None of the other shoppers in the store seem to notice anything unusual. No one seems to notice him, either, as he makes his way further into the store, past the registers and a perfume counter that he half-registers as the source of the sweet scent. It’s stronger now, as he gets further into the store, and as he reaches an intersection of paths he belatedly realizes that the noises of carts and shoppers aren’t the only sounds in the store- music is playing over whatever sound system is present in this place, a strange song that he’s never heard before, dreary vocals slurred over repetitive guitars and an alarm-like synthesizer. _

_ The song fades out for a split second before starting again, and in that brief moment the busy store is gone, replaced with an empty room in the same state of disrepair as the rest of the building, and Sheppard freezes in place, finding himself mere inches from the edge of collapsed floor. But as quickly as it appeared it disappears again, replaced by brightly colored tiles that show no signs of decay. He avoids them anyway. _

_ He’s standing at the jewelry counter now, or the jewelry counter has come to him, but the question of what’s happening is once again pushed from his mind as the clerk turns towards his side of the counter. _

_ Holland. _

_ Sheppard’s breath catches in his throat, and he steps closer to the counter, reaching out with vague hope. _

_ “Holland-” He cuts off as Holland turns to face him directly, looking straight through him with a blank stare. _

_ “Take the consequence of living,” Holland says, in time with the fading radio, and Sheppard feels the floor fall out from under him. _

Sheppard jolts awake, out of breath, and immediately thinks ON as hard as he can at the lights. He’s in his room in Atlantis, alone, and a quick check of his watch tells him that it’s just past 02:00. He runs a hand through his hair, and wonders if Rodney is still in his labs.

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> -Same general focus as the rest of this series. Sheppard's getting better, but he's still not in a great place.  
> -Cliche horror tropes, including abandoned, decaying buildings, uncertain circumstances, etc.  
> -Uh, this isn't a warning-warning, but there is a segment with incorrect capitalization for aesthetic purposes.
> 
> The song referenced is "The Most Mysterious Song On The Internet", which is an unknown song from a German radio station in the 80s. No one knows who made it, and it's actually pretty good. Definitely feels like something you'd hear in an empty mall, though.


End file.
